The Seer's Bowl...a sestina form

Lifting silver ewer, arms pale and bare,

she stands at the Seer's Bowl
to pour clear singing liquid,
her back bending,
cool and steady gaze
in her face's reflection.

Another day for temple reflection,
seekers who come to bare
souls within her gaze,
pray to wash them clean at her bowl,
heads quietly bending
to rippling liquid.

Thoughts become liquid
given time for reflection,
perception willingly bending;
beauty in the bare
frosted glass bowl
that cools and soothes the gaze.

Whose eyes in the gaze
multiplied by waves of liquid
in her tidal bowl?
Known for more than reflection;
a future laid bare,
light and time bending.

She whispers the question bending
to meet each pilgrim's gaze.
Will you strip bare
and fall liquid
through your future reflection,
forever in this bowl?

Some dive into the bowl,
all future will bending
to one moment's reflection,
hypnotized gaze
in near-frozen liquid;
life blue and mystery bare.

I would bare my intent unbound in a bowl.
I wish the future liquid and choices bending,
the gaze of fate in hindsight reflection.